I'm glad of the huge dirty beach ball divided into primary colors, floating & twisting turning.
Sound of what I will call Grass-Arm Hairdo Palms, something between shhhh and sssss.
Possessed of chirping complaints.
Birdcall like secret-whistle call.
Possessed of coffee coffee Diet Coke iced coffee. Just breathe, damn it.
How we are divided, halved like peaches.
Why are eyes such beautiful colors? What is that for?
Stop it. Stop.
Don't you love those plants that look like sweet peas on a string?
What did we have when?
Who we?
Anybody.
Brother behind a pillar next to the pool, best place for reading company. The beach ball wants him, but he kicks it away.
Jet plane. Soccer kick sound.
Who are we to have this quiet now, these ocean plant sounds?
That old dog through the glass door, washing its face, licking its sore paws.
"Why are eyes such beautiful colors. What is it for?" Damn. That jacked my jaw.
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